


Wee Little Puppet Man

by jabez



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Episode: s05e14 Smile Time, M/M, Spike has issues, puppet!angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jabez/pseuds/jabez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike has a thing for tiny hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wee Little Puppet Man

**Author's Note:**

> Brought over from a 2004 Livejournal post, because some things are meant to be preserved forever. Unbeta'd. 1 of 2 Smile Time fics that I wrote because I am clearly cracked

There was something about small hands. Spike had never really been all that into the big manliness of Angel, no matter what the great poof said.  
  
He just did whatever the situation called for to keep him in as little pain as possible ('cept the times he wanted the pain). And yes he enjoyed it overall, but that didn’t mean it changed his preferences. He adapted to Angel, but he happened to prefer small hands.   
  
Angel had  _very tiny_  hands right now. Not that he was looking because that phase of un-life was over, and Angel knew it as well. The wolfgirl had him all covered, or would have him covered soon if she had her way.   
  
So it didn’t make sense for him to be standing outside of the bedroom, hand up like he was going to knock, hovering for a moment in the air before he realized, _What the hell? I’m Spike. I don’t knock._ He put his hand on the doorknob wondering if he should maybe just break it down or if that was going too far. No need to be pushy.  He opened the door a bit and hesitated.   
  
This was stupid. He didn’t  _need_  bloody Angel anyway. He could find someone else to…talk to. Just because--  
  
“Spike.” Of course. Spike turned around to behind him in the hall and saw nothing; he squinted in confusion before he remembered why he was there in the first place and looked down. He didn’t bother trying to hide the smile that grew on his face.   
  
“Angel. You’re still looking…well.” It was odd leering at something that was two feet tall and was normally featured with a giant bird singing songs about numbers.   
  
Angel sighed wearily. “Look, could you just leave? It would save you the embarrassment of getting beaten up by a puppet.” Angel’s voice choked on the word puppet and he lifted his hands- _tiny hands_ -to run through his hair. Except his arms weren’t long enough to go all the way through his hair. He could hear Angel growl in adorable, felt-covered frustration. Poor guy.  
  
Spike crouched down. “It’s always fighting with you, isn’t it? There are many different sorts of things we could do instead of fighting.” He kept his gaze on Angel’s plastic eyes and mentally reminded himself not to sneer. Or giggle insanely.  
  
For his part, Angel only looked blank. Well, as blank as one could look with a permanent frown sewed on. He lifted his wee little puppet arm and pressed a hand into Spike’s chin. Spike slumped lower to allow more access to the rest of his face. Angel ran a hand across his jaw line and behind his ear; he could feel the small individual fingers caress his neck.  Spike closed his eyes and moaned.  
  
Suddenly the hand was gone. Spike whimpered in disappointment and leaned towards Angel. His eyes shot open as he heard a snicker. “What--”  
  
“You know something, Spike?” Angel said as he walked past the crouched man and into his room. “You make me feel better about fucking Eve.”   
  
And shut the door.


End file.
